


My Love for You is 98% Pure

by WeirdItalianPlumber



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: A little fluffy but not really, Alcohol, F/M, Flashbacks, Original ideas and slight twists on canon things, Recreational Drug Use, not really chronological, some swearing but nothing you haven't heard on the show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-16 15:19:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10574022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeirdItalianPlumber/pseuds/WeirdItalianPlumber
Summary: If anyone were to ask Charlie or Dee if they were dating, they'd be met with a flat out "no", probably preceded by some laughter. But neither could deny that they felt something that couldn't be shaken off.A handful of memories between the two.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in years. I've been wanting to get back to writing for a while, and this mostly sprung up from expanding a bunch of headcanons I had. There's no specific set time, unless mentioned, but it's mostly aimed after the second half of season 10.
> 
> Thanks to tinypersistence for beta-ing. 
> 
> Title comes from New Chevrolet in Flames by The Mountain Goats, because their songs fit so well for this show. 
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this. Hope you enjoy it, too.

 “And by the way, dude, you gotta stop sleeping in the bar. How many times do we have to tell you this?” Dennis scolded Charlie as they sat in a line at the bar counter, airing grievances.

“Dude, what are you talking about? I’m not sleeping here.” Charlie defended.

“You don’t always come home at night.” Frank chimed in, looking up from his legal pad.

“See! Every time we leave you to close! You probably end up drinking all our product then passing out in the office or some shit! That needs to stop” Dennis persisted, his voice raising in pitch significantly.

“Yeah, it’s not cool bro. We’ve been telling you for _years_!” Mac added.

“Seriously, guys! I don’t sleep here anymore.”

“Well, _apparently_ you’re not here, and you're not at your place. So, one of you two is lying” Dennis pushed on, wagging an accusatory finger at Frank and Charlie, “And I don’t know why it’d be him.” Dennis finished by jabbing a thumb in Frank’s direction. Frank stared at him blankly, not comprehending why they were still on the subject.

 “Alright, fine! I’ve been at Dee’s!” Charlie shouted, frustrated, and wanting Dennis to shut up. The confession leaving the group in stunned silence.

“That going on again?” Frank asked, a little surprised, but much too casual for Dennis’ liking.

“Still.” Dee corrected from her spot, not looking directly at anyone, a little embarrassed but mostly enjoying the shock on her brother’s face.

“What the hell, Frank?! You knew?” Mac exclaimed, rounding on the shorter man.

“Yeah.” he grunted, bored by the conversation and really seeing the point in continuing. The group dynamic hadn’t really changed, why make a big deal out of it?

If Frank was being honest, he really wasn’t sure how long he knew. Or how he even found out, it just all seemed to progress so naturally.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Dee sat at the bar alone, save for the two regular bar flies in a back booth, nursing their beers and staring off into space. She scrolled through her phone, looking for something entertaining. She was still fuming at how those lazy dickbags hadn’t shown up yet, leaving her to do all the work. She looked up when the door loudly swung open, Frank and Charlie came striding in wearing Russian hats, apparently proud of whatever scheme they had going on. Frank stepped behind the counter, opening two beers and sliding one towards Charlie, who had already stopped and was standing close to Dee.

“What the shit is this?” Dee asked, amused at their antics.

“Russian hats! It’s for a thing we’re doin'.” Frank responded.

“Aren’t they great?” Charlie beamed, clearly expecting agreement.

“No” She answered simply, then continued after watching his face fall, “Buuut I like 'em anyway” grabbing the strings of his ridiculous hat and pulling him closer, kissing him lightly. Unashamed and casual, even in front of Frank.

“Y’know, I’m cool with…” Frank paused, waving his free hand in a general motion “ _Whatever_ this is, but keep it to yourselves. 'Cause it’s pretty goddamn weird.” he finished, taking another swig of his beer.

~~~~~~~~

Prom was the first time Charlie really felt a connection with Dee. He always thought she was alright. Maybe even a little cool.

She was one of the toughest people he knew. She could hold her beer, and spit back threats and fiery insults better than most of the guys he saw fighting around the school. But there was something about prom night- seeing her vulnerable, her guard completely down, did he feel a need to comfort or protect. Dee was so tough; he figured it would take something _big_ to get through her hardened exterior. Seeing a new side to her was eye-opening.

“Yo! Ready to get fucked up, bro?” Mac greeted when Dennis opened the door for him and Charlie.

“Yeah, man, just need a few more minutes to finish getting ready.” Dennis responded, stepping aside to let them in as he turned and headed back up the staircase to his room. “And shut the door behind you, Charlie! I don’t need you letting bugs in.”

“Bro, how are you not ready?” Mac questioned following closely behind, “You had _way_ more time than us! Besides, you’re a guy! Throw on a suit and bam! You’re done! We don’t need all the time chicks do. Like... Dee! She probably needs _days_ if she’s actually gonna look presentable.” He snorted, clearly impressed with his own callousness.

“ _I_ actually have a _date_. With a _girl,_ ” Dennis spoke slowly, emphasizing as if they still didn’t understand what was happening. “And, unlike you, I put _effort_ into my looks. Moisturizing, hair sculpting, a little foundation to perfect my skin... these people expect their Golden God to look amazing.” he said, turning to them whilst straightening his tie. "And they will have him."

“Where is Dee, anyway?” Charlie asked, having already lost interest in the conversation.

“She’s not going. Mom must’ve said something that upset her, so she locked herself in her room.” Dennis replied, disinterested, as he added the finishing touches to his makeup.

“Oh...” Charlie reacted, glancing at the wall separating the two rooms, “Um... is she okay?”

“I don’t know. Probably. Yes.” Dennis snapped, trying to push past the subject. “It happens a lot. I can’t concern myself with it every goddamn time.”

Mac began to say something, but Charlie wasn't paying attention to what. He found himself being pulled towards to the room next door. He stared at the wood, not quite sure of what to do next.

 “... Dee?” Charlie tapped lightly on the door. “You in there?”

There was a light noise inside, which he took as an okay to enter.

He cracked the door open and slid inside. She was in there, in sweatpants and an old t-shirt, lying face down in the middle of her bed. Pillows and stuffed animals were strewn all over, as if they had been thrown in a fit of rage. He shut the door gently and continued in. He stared down at her before sitting, softly nudging her over. Dee groaned lightly, of course Charlie just does what he wants, not considering others’ space. She rolled to her side anyway, making room, and glaring at his shoes as he’s about to stretch out and put them on the comforter. He gets the hint, kicking them off. They land with two soft thuds on the plush carpet. He leaned back against the headboard, already way more comfortable than he should be, in Dee’s opinion. She instinctively moved up, leaning on his shoulder, testing the position, but his arm wraps around her in affirmation.  It’s a tight fit on a twin size bed, but it's... oddly relaxing.  Charlie is shocked at how small she seems without the back brace and he’s even more impressed at how strong came across, despite her small frame.

“Is that seriously what you’re wearing to prom?” she asked after a moment, sniffling slightly.

“Is that what _you’re_ wearing?” he retaliated.

“I’m not going. My bitch of a mother has to ruin everything.”

“Well, I’m not going either.  Mac is gonna hang onto Dennis, who gets all weird around the cool kids. And they make me sorta nervous. Besides, it won’t be the same without you there,” his voice softening on the last statement.

The side of Dee's mouth turned up into a slight smile, despite herself. “You don't have to stay with me. My own parents don’t care about me, and I couldn’t even get a date to the senior prom,” she vented, not understanding why she felt so comfortable telling Dirtgrub all this. Another pause, “I just want to be worth something to someone," she confessed, softly.

Charlie felt a sudden surge of empathy. He knew what it was like to be unwanted by a parent, but hope for a better future, like the ones on TV, was something that kept him going.

“’Course you are! Hell, Dee, one day... you’re gonna be someone’s everything.”

~~~~~

The secret was officially out and there was nothing anybody could do. Charlie snuck away from the group, grabbing a beer from behind the counter, and sitting down on a bar stool.  He wasn’t alone for long.

 “Seriously!?  _Dee_?” Mac questioned, sliding next to Charlie, who glanced up from the bottle he had been picking the label off. Mac twisted his face in disgust.

“I dunno, man, it just sorta... happened.” he shrugged.

“She looks like a bird.” Mac countered, knowing the insult was old and had pretty much worn out any weight.

“Kinda. But birds are pretty cool.”

“She’s not funny.” Mac continued, as they both watched Dee at the end of the bar, trying to make jokes that were clearly going over like a lead balloon with Dennis and Frank.

“No, she’s not.” Charlie agreed, but there was something vaguely affectionate in his tone.

****

Noticing the two talking, Dee looked over just in time to catch Charlie’s eye. He smirked at her, and she felt reassured. That damn smile. She groaned inwardly. Why did it have an effect on her?

~~~~~~~

Dee sighed when she heard a pounding on the door. Glancing at the oven clock, which read 8:37 P.M., had just confirmed who she had been expecting. She stood from the couch and walked to the door, looking out the peephole. Charlie stood on the other side, white plastic shopping bags in hand, waiting. 

 _Godammit_. He clearly had plans of staying, as he had a few times in the past couple weeks. She was definitely going to send him away this time. Absolutely. Mac and Dennis had finally moved out, a full hour away even, and she was finally going to get some much deserved time to herself. But even after spending all day at work together, he insisted on stealing more her time.

Dee braced herself and yanked the door open, fully prepared (and maybe even a little happy) to tell him to scram. But the moment they’re actually face to face, her attitude softens. He instantly smiles, eyes bright, and enters as if he lived there. “I swiped some booze from Paddy’s! Then got some chips and shit from Wawa.” He held up a bag indicating what was inside, “Then I got a couple movies, ‘cause I wasn’t really sure what’d you like.” he finished, raising the bag in his other hand before depositing both on the coffee table. “Wanna order pizza?’’

**~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The first thing Dee noticed waking up was that she was not alone, and even more glaringly she was in very close proximity with this other person.  It didn’t take any guessing or remembering to know who this was. Charlie Kelly was wrapped around her, her head buried in his chest. They were a jumble of legs and blankets, both tight in the center of her bed. The night before fresh on her mind- they had lounged around her living room watching TV, playing cards, and working on songs and poems that both knew would never leave the apartment. She'd invited him into her room, reasoning that the couch was so small, and it was too late to send him away- it didn’t have to be anything weird. They’d shared before. There was no sex, but something felt very intimate.

She wanted to freeze everything, savoring the moment of being awake enough to enjoy the warmth of being pressed so close to another body, with the feeling of contentment, while still drowsy enough that she didn’t have to fully accept just exactly _who_ was giving her this long chased feeling and how much she enjoyed it.

**~~~~~~~~**

Moments with Charlie were becoming increasingly confusing; lines overlapping. Things that could often be interpreted as platonic friend things had somehow managed to mix with feelings of something more. Things that she'd once dreamt of happening to her, which eventually became unrealistic and cheesy, were occurring.

One of her favorite memories, though she’d never admit it, is dancing with Charlie in the middle of Paddy’s at 2:30 in the morning. Frank, Dennis, and Mac had all left around midnight claiming other obligations, or outright admitting that they simply didn’t want to be there, leaving the pair alone. They sat in silence, half listening to the radio, taking slow sips from scattered beer bottles. Dee already had a strong buzz going and was beginning to feel sleepy when Charlie quietly said, “Dance with me.”

The song had changed, and while it wasn’t exactly a love song, the beat was calm and softer than the previous few.

“What, are you high?” she asked sarcastically, putting up a well-constructed defense.

“Little bit,” he admitted, standing and extending a hand. “Found your nail paints. They’re tiny but _strong_.”

“Oh, goddammit, Charlie,” she laughed, rising and accepting his offer before fully realizing what she had agreed to. They took the few steps out to the middle of the room before stopping, Charlie confidently linking his arms around her waist. Though the move was welcomed, Dee had to bite back a smart comment, especially because the room was almost spinning as she rested her arms on his shoulders, leaning close for support. They stood in the same spot, swaying to the music, and enjoying the movement and closeness more than either could have anticipated.

**~~~~~~~~**

Dee really liked spending time alone with Charlie. He made her feel important. Getting high was one of the things they enjoyed together; something they’d done since high school. But this time, instead of being a massive loser, she felt like one of the cool kids. Hanging out with someone because they genuinely wanted to be around her, not because they were the school’s leftover scraps thrown together. 

One afternoon, when they were sitting on her couch watching TV, Charlie produced a tightly rolled joint. He held it carefully between his thumb and forefinger, smiling happily. “I have an idea.”

Dee smiled widely. “Nice!” she exclaimed, reaching out to take it from him. He pulled it back quickly, amused at her impulsiveness. “C'mon Charlie, ladies first!” she whined playfully.

“Nuh-uh. I brought it,” he teased, clearly enjoying her shock.

Dee sighed, “Fine!” she resigned, fishing a lighter from her jeans pocket and slapping it in his waiting hand.

Charlie made careful eye contact as he placed the joint gently between his lips and lit the end, inhaling deeply and blowing out the white smoke.

“You done?” she asked, still watching, waiting. Charlie nodded, coughing lightly before pausing, stopping himself from passing it over.

“Wait. Shotgun it.”

“No. That’s dumb.” It wasn’t a real protest. She looked at him expectantly, waiting to see his next move.

Charlie knew a challenge when he saw one, and he wasn’t going to back down. Quirking his eyebrows, as if to say ' _Watch me'_ , he raised the joint back to his mouth. He took note of how her eyes were drawn to, and then focused on his lips, and inhaled. Instead of exhaling, he watched his companion, anticipating her next move. Would she play along or simply let him have the first two hits?  It didn’t take long before her mouth was on his, breathing in as he breathed out, passing the smoke over, lingering a moment longer than necessary.  Dee leaned back, releasing a cloud of white smoke into the air.

They would both blame the weed for that electric and fuzzy feeling.

~~~~~~~~~~

No matter how long you know someone, they can usually find a way to surprise you. Whether that’s a good or bad thing is debatable.

“You hungry?” Charlie asked from the end of his couch, sitting down his guitar and leaning it against a stack of boxes.

Dee sat up, pulling her head off the armrest, “Eh, I could eat.”

“Oh, man, you're in for a real treat! Have you had a Grilled Charlie before?” he asked jumping up.

“A- what?” Dee asked in slight disbelief.

“A Grilled Charlie! My favorite sandwich. It’s bread obviously, peanut butter, regular butter, chocolate, and cheese. The real trick is the order- that’s what makes it special!” he explained as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“No, I haven’t! I never will.”

“Why not? They’re great! I’ve been eating them for years!”

“Well, it sounds awful. Whatever happened to _normal_ things, like a grilled _cheese_?” Dee teased, ready for whatever crazy excuse he would produce. 

Charlie scoffed, almost offended at the suggestion. “That’s so _boring_ , Dee! Kids’ stuff. We’re adults! Add a little variety to your palette!”

“Too much variety, dude. Sounds like a mess.”

“Alright, then” Charlie challenged, “You can do your own thing. What’s a Grilled Dee gonna be?”

**~~~~~~~~~~~~**

They did nice, fancy things together sometimes. Charlie remembers getting sick of Dennis and Mac bragging about all the fun and cool stuff they do together, before thinking _'Screw it! We should do something fancy, too.'_ Of course, he and Dee had things the others didn’t. Like their diner visits and cooking together. But sometimes you just want to do something special.

“I need your card, Frank,” Charlie stated, sitting next to him on their shared futon.

“What the hell for?!” he barked, suspicious. Charlie never asked for money, Frank paid any time they went somewhere, and the kid always seemed content with what he already had. He was definitely up to something, and Frank was not about to be tricked or left out of a scheme.

“Mac and Dennis have their monthly dinners...” Charlie started. Frank was about to tell him screw those two, he’s not paying for their weird little dates. And they should at least have the balls to come to him themselves, instead of making Charlie do their dirty work, but then he was surprised by the younger man’s next words. “Well, I thought maybe me and Dee can do something like that. I mean, we do our own thing and that’s great, but I was thinking maybe she’d like to do something really nice.” he finished, eyes darting between Frank and the floor.

“You an’ Deandra goin’ on a date?” he asked, amused and a little surprised. He liked that his two favorite members of the gang were happy, but the thought still hurt- he didn’t want to lose his best buddy.

“No no, not a date. Just us doin’ what we usually do. Just a little different. Fancy this time.”

Frank agreed that seemed like a good idea, pulled out his wallet, extracted a platinum credit card, and passed it over, “Don’t tell her I know. It’ll ruin it.” Charlie gave him a strange look, “…okay.”

****

Dee sat at her kitchen table, scrolling through craigslist ads on her laptop, looking for any local theater productions in need of a talented actress for their plays, when she was startled by her phone ringing. “Yeah?” she answered.

“Hey, it’s me. Charlie.” She rolled her eyes, as if that wasn’t already obvious. “I stole Frank’s credit card. Put on a pretty dress. I’ll be there around 6. We’re going out for real.”

Hating to admit that she was looking forward to this not-date with Charlie and feeling stupid and way overdressed, Dee fidgeted around her apartment, double and triple checking her hair and makeup in the mirror, when the door opened.

Charlie walked in without knocking, prompting Dee to spin around to berate him, but was pleasantly surprised by exactly _how_ nice he looked, forgetting the offense, realizing he had actually put real effort into his appearance for the night.

 “Are you ready? We always go to Guigino’s, and that’s kind of Mac and Dennis’ thing. So, I thought maybe we could go to that other place. You know? The ocean one in Center City?”

Dee wanted to be annoyed, but somehow, when it was just the two of them she found it difficult to get mad. Even worse, the little irritating things he did became slightly endearing. “Yeah,” she smiled “Sounds good.”

*****

They were seated quickly, a benefit of going out on a Monday night.

They discussed a variety of things from sharing ideas of what Dennis and Mac do at their dinners, and if breaking out in song and essentially making a love confession is typical, to some of Dee’s thoughts for what would make a great play and why she would be an amazing actress, and Charlie’s crazy ideas and adventures that she had trouble following in some places, but found his enthusiasm more than enough to listen intently. She did have to stop him from going into too many details about the bridge and sewers, but that was to be expected, honestly.

They both had a great time, not feeling at all awkward by the overwhelming number of couples who surrounded them, until one moment when Charlie was looking around, trying to contain his smile.

“What?” Dee questioned, amused.

Charlie beamed back at her, as if he wanted her to share in his joy, “I just realized- I’m with the prettiest girl here.”

They both comprehended the meaning of what he'd said at the same time, breaking eye contact, eyes flitting down to the table. “Thanks, Charlie.” she whispered, lightly blushing.

“Well, I mean, it’s the truth, so…” Charlie responded sheepishly, rubbing at his ear, backtracking and hoping it sounded more objective than flirty.

~~~~~~~~~

Sitting side by side in a corner booth, the two finally addressed the day.

“Guess they know”

“Know what?”

“Us. This” waving a hand between the two, indicating who and what was being discussed.

“And, what exactly, is this?”

“I don’t know. Just… us?” looking at the other for confirmation, hoping the singular word could sum up everything.

“They don’t know everything. There’s a lot more to it. Let ‘em think whatever, they treat us like shit anyway.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” They agreed, reaching out and intertwining their fingers, no uncertainty in the action- not caring who saw, and reveling in the surge of confidence that came with the connection.

 

**Author's Note:**

> -I've never smoked pot, so if it's really inaccurate I'm sorry. I heard someone talking about shotgunning a joint, and looked it up out of curiosity and immediately thought of these two.  
> -The restaurant Charlie is trying to refer to is Ocean Prime, which is a Seafood & Steak Fine Dining restaurant.  
> -I couldn't decide who would be saying what at the end, so I tried to keep it neutral. Fit the conversation with whichever one you want, or just enjoy the mystery.


End file.
